


Dean Enchanted

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dimple Adoration, Feels, Fluff, Freckle Love, M/M, RP, Wincest - Freeform, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets Ella Enchanted, and has to do what he’s told. (Sort of) Established relationship. Uncomfortable/silly/pranky Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Enchanted

**Author's Note:**

> Season: Season 1,2,3 ish.

They didn’t get to go out into carefree places often, so Dean took the opportunity the moment it presented itself, nearly swerving the Impala into a road sign as he made a sharp turn into the marked spot of a massive flea market.

If he knew what was in store though, well, the part of him that talked aloud would’ve said he was /miserable/, he hated it, and it was horrible. But parts of him, parts of him were glad it’d happened, enjoyed the turn of events, missed them afterwards, even.

He had the bag of boiled peanuts in one hand, sucking the juice from a few and cracking the soft shells open with his teeth as he rummaged around the action figures, occasionally turning back to show Sam something that amused him; his brother, who was looking through books, of course.

Sam didn’t much care for the surroundings but, if this is where Dean wanted to spend the afternoon, then he’d humor him. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to look and see if they had any books on folk lore, legends and such. Sam was flipping through an older looking book, the leather worn and edges ruined.

He was mindlessly skimming a page that talked about Manticores when he looked up, grimacing at the bag of peanuts that Dean was eating, “You think flea market food is a good idea?”

 

“You kiddin’ me?” The older Winchester asked, grinning and popping another into his mouth as he removed the shells from the ones before and bagged them up, “These things are awesome. Want some?” He offered to his brother.

Sam put his hands up out of repulsion before he dug a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it to the old man behind the table, to pay for the books he’d found, “Thanks,” He murmured before turning to Dean. The younger Winchester wrinkled his nose and nudged Dean in the ribs with his elbow, “Wouldn’t be surprised if you catch somethin’ from those,” Sam looked pointedly at the peanuts.

Dean chuckled, grinning enough to show his teeth before he moved along, looking over a table of assorted figurines. He observed a few of them closer, smirking at the curves of the women carved and painted, the fake hair on their heads, the little dresses they, sometimes, wore.

He put the last one back down, nodding to the seller and joining his brother, “I  **would**  be surprised if you pulled that stick outta your ass an’ enjoyed yourself for once. Come on, Sam, relax a little.”

Sam rolled his eyes and huffed, “I  _am_  relaxed, you should just pay more attention to what you’re puttin’ in your mouth.” Sam adjusted the books under his arms so that they wouldn’t fall.

The younger Winchester knew that he more than likely had already found everything that would even remotely catch his attention, now it was all about riding his boredom out with a smile on his face until Dean was ready to go.

“Okay  **princess** ,” Dean looked down at the bag, “They’re boiled peanuts, made by that woman at the front of the market, an’ they were salted. You need me to know anythin’ else?”

“Have you seen this place, Dean?” Sam was getting worked up over the nickname more than anything else, but that was Dean for you, “It’s a flea market, not  **exactly**  sanitary.” Sam was pretty sure that disputing this was pointless, Dean was too damn stubborn.

The older Winchester rolled his eyes as he wiped his hand off on his jeans, “You soun’ like some kinda… Germ’uh’phobe.” He said the word as his face scrunched up and he pulled the peanut shell from his mouth, bagging it and moving on, walking passed his brother without looking at Sam.

“Well, one of us needs to be,” Sam shrugged, not taking what Dean said to heart, “Cause you’re sure as hell not.” Sam walked a few steps behind Dean, not saying much else, just watching the way the older Winchester’s ass moved when he walked.  _The rest of this may be bearable as long as the scenery doesn’t change_. Sam chuckled at the thought, knowing Dean would get all worked up and threaten to knock his head off if he mentioned something like that in public.

Dean continued walking, stopping here and there, looking at things, but never really buying anything in particular. He glanced back on occasion, looking at his brother, pointing, and eventually they reached the end of the flea market; once he’d finished his bag of boiled peanuts. Dean lingered at the end though, looking over a table of knives with a raised eyebrow.

The younger Winchester propped his books on his hip, like he used to do in school, as he stood behind Dean, his chin hovering over his brother’s shoulder to look at the knives with him, “I got my books, you should get one. You know you want to.”

Sam placed a small kiss on the edge of Dean’s cheek, next to his ear, smiling because he knew that public displays of affection were currently a no no for  
them. They hadn’t exactly gotten that far yet, mainly because Dean was a chicken shit when it came to this type of thing.

Dean gave Sam a nervous look, eyes widening slightly before he turned and met the seller’s gaze. He swallowed and shifted his shoulder to bump Sam’s chin away gently, “Wouldj’ya stop?” His brows narrowed, lips pursing as he turned his attention to the knives again. He didn’t really  _need_ another knife, but  **goddamn** , he  _wanted_  one. “It don’t matter,” He said, still looking at the handles of them.

Sam bit down a grin, satisfied with the reaction he got from Dean. The younger Winchester was determined to get Dean over his  _completely_ irrational fear of other people seeing them together intimately, it’d just take time and baby steps.

“If you don’t want one then let’s go,” Sam prodded impatiently, knowing full well that Dean did.

“Stop pokin’,” Dean said, feeling suddenly conflicted. He wanted one of those knives. On one hand, he had plenty of blades, but on another, he hadn’t bought one, ever. He kind of liked the idea of just getting one for himself, instead of gathering them from his victims, like he usually did.

“I’m not, but these books aren’t exactly light,” Sam readjusted them and changed his grip so that he wouldn’t drop them.

Dean sighed and backed away, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Alright,” He said, turning from the stand completely, “Let’s go then.”

Sam looked up at the sky as if he was praising God, “ **Finally**.”

After they’d gotten settled in the Impala, Sam’s books laying in the back seat, Sam furrowed his brows and looked at Dean, “I think I left one of the books I paid for, I’ll be right back.” Sam hurried out of the Impala before Dean could protest.

When he came back, Sam put his hands up and shrugged as he slid into the car once more, “Guess the old man resold ‘em already.”

Dean, with his brows raised, started the car up and pulled out of the flea market, “So, what kinda books did you get? Harry Potter book nine or…?” He ducked out his lips, smirking at his brother.

“No,” Sam completely ignored the sarcastic remark, “Mainly just folk lore and legends, ya know, stuff we can actually use.”  _I wish there were nine Harry Potter books_ , Truth be told, Sam actually missed reading just for the pleasure and sheer relaxation he got out of it.

The older Winchester nodded slowly, pulling up onto the interstate and driving southward, “What, you mean Harry Potter’s not real?” He gave Sam a broken-hearted look, “He’s famous enough, should be real.”

Sam shifted in the seat and stretched his legs out as far as he could and, just for the record, that’s not very damn far. The younger Winchester threw Dean an annoyed glance, “Stop being such an ass.” It’s not like Sam teased Dean for liking Busty Asian Beauties, he was entitled to like whatever he damn well pleased and Harry Potter just happened to be one of those things.

Dean’s face stilled, the smile nearly vanishing completely and he nodded, “Oh, okay.” His brows narrowed as he turned back though, eyes on the road. He tried to dish out some sort of snide remark, but even that wouldn’t come out, “Music?” He asked, reaching over and turning the radio on as his eyes widened.

Sam watched Dean as confusion settled between his brows, it was odd that his brother gave up so easily considering that wasn’t normally how Dean was. The younger Winchester tilted his head a little, “You alright?”

Dean nodded, his head moving along slightly to the song thrumming up through the speakers, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason,” Sam shook his head. _Except for the fact that you never listen to a word I say and you just stopped when I asked you to_. Sam settled back and diverted his attention to the passing scenery.

* * *

The older Winchester tossed his keys on the table and shucked out of his jacket, carefully kicking off his boots as he began to relax, on the outside; on the inside, though, he was a wreck. He was aware of the sudden inability to…  **To be an ass** ; and it was bothering him. But hell if he was going to tell Sam what had happened.

“So, while we’re on lock down,” He started conversationally, “I guess you’re gonna skim through those books?”

Sam sat the books on the table and looked at Dean curiously, “What do you mean by  **lock down**?” The younger Winchester was pretty sure they didn’t have anything immediate to tend to, unless a case popped up in the next day or so.

“I got somethin’ I uh…” Dean pulled his wallet from his back pocket and tossed it onto the bed, avoiding his brother’s gaze, “Somethin’ I needa look into.”

“Okay,” Sam pushed off from the table and walked over next to Dean, he grabbed his brother’s forearm lightly and rubbed small circles into the soft skin on the underside, “You gonna tell me what the hell you’re talkin’ about?” Sam was fairly sure he could get away with with touching Dean’s arm, considering they were behind closed doors and it wasn’t an overly intimate gesture.

The older Winchester’s lips ducked out suddenly and he looked down at his brother’s hand, his chest tightening at the action, “It’s nothin’, okay?” He said softly, brows narrowing, “I just gotta look into somethin’, an’ I don’t think takin’ on another case so soon would be… Smart.”

“We don’t really have any cases right now anyway,” Sam offered, pulling Dean into a tight hug with his lips next to his brother’s ear, “Would you tell me what you’re talkin’ about, please?” It felt good to actually hug Dean, even though Sam could feel every muscle in his brother’s body tensing; he’d have to get used to it eventually, right?

Dean tried to pull back, “Sam, it’s nothin’ alright? Now can you stop bein’ so clingy?” He asked, putting his hands to his brother’s sides as if to push him away.

“Wanting to hug you because you haven’t so much as laid a finger on me in  **days**  makes me clingy. You’re a real charmer,” Sam stepped back, a little irritated as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Now  **tell me what’s going on**.”

The older Winchester started to bite his lips closed the second he recognized that it was a direct command, and then the words came tumbling out like a horrible car crash, “I think I’m cursed or somethin’.”

Sam raised his brows and nodded like he didn’t believe Dean, “And what makes you think that you’re  _cursed_?”

Dean winced, but smirked when he realized it wasn’t a direct command, “It’s nothin’, okay? Just… don’t worry about it, alright? Now, wouldj’ya stop askin’ questions? Go read a book or somethin’.”

Sam clenched his jaw and set his shoulders back nice and broad, rolling his eyes at how ridiculous Dean was being, “Christ, Dean. Stop pussy footin’ around and tell me what it is.” Sam rolled his hand dramatically in front of himself as if to prompt Dean to continue.

“Goddammit,” The older Winchester said, glaring at Sam as he crossed his hands over his chest and answered, “You keep givin’ me orders, an’, I dunno why… But I keep havin’ to follow ‘em.”

Sam thought back to how tight lipped Dean was after he told him to stop being an ass, almost like he  **was**  actually doing what Sam said, “What do you mean? Like If I tell you to do something, you have to do it?” Sam could feel a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. If it’s true, maybe it wouldn’t be such a  _bad_  thing.

“No,” Dean said at once, smiling inwardly. He could still lie, he didn’t have to tell the truth if Sam didn’t know how to word things, “It’s not like that at all, now can you leave it? Stop askin’ me.”

Sam put his hands up in defeat and backed away, smirking a little, “Fine.” It wasn’t like Dean would tell him the truth about that anyway, he always liked having the upper hand on Sam. Given the opportune moment, he was going to try it out, see if Dean was lying. Sam walked back over to his books at the table and sat down, pulling the top one towards him as he opened it.

The older Winchester practically visibly relaxed at that, shoulders dropping as he turned his back on his brother and smirked. Now he just needed to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. He was fine before they went to the…  **Fuck**. The flea market. He’d touched practically _everything_  in that place. There was no telling what he’d gotten from some random thing on display there.

Sam pretended to focus on the words in the book, not lifting his head at all, “Hey, Dean, get me a beer.”

Dean stiffened at once before his legs moved, forcing him into the kitchen, “Goddammit,” He said as he walked, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer. Great, Sam  **did**  know. Well, this was going to go over fantastically. He was practically  _fuming_  with rage when he joined Sam’s side, nearly slamming the beer onto the table beside his brother.

Sam popped the top off the beer and practically choked on his laughter, still not looking up from the book.  _This is going to be good, oh yes._  The younger Winchester took a drink and sat it down, he closed his book and looked up at Dean with a smile so big it would’ve put the sun to shame, “I know you didn’t just get me a beer out of the goodness of your heart, did ya?” Sam knew he was pushing it,  
but this was just too damn good to pass up.

“Fuck you,” Dean retorted, face twisting in disgust, feeling his stomach roll sickly. He didn’t care that Sam had  **control** , not entirely, that didn’t… didn’t really bother him. But he hated any idea of someone or anyone telling him what to do.

The younger Winchester’s smile faded slowly, “Easy, tiger. It’s not like I’m gonna make you dress in drag, calm down.” As it would appear, Dean was having major issues with Sam being in control.  _Figures, fuckin’ control freak_.

Dean moved away, “Exactly, you’re  _not_ ,’ He said, face stone serious.

“Don’t be such an asshole and maybe I wouldn’t be tempted to,” Sam’s mouth set in a firm line, Dean was really getting under his skin.

Dean turned back, looking away from Sam, “I don’t think you’d be too happy, if you were in my place.”

“Considering you boss me around pretty much all the time anyway,” Sam took another drink of his beer and shrugged one shoulder, “Wouldn’t be much different.”

“I don’t boss you aroun’,” Dean disagreed, sitting down on the bed and swinging his legs up onto it, “I mean, literally  **make**  you do things.”

“You don’t physically force me, but I do what you tell me to, ninety percent of the time  _anyway_ ,” Sam offered, face serious. It was true though, there were very few things Sam ever hesitated on when Dean told him to do something. Sam, being as  _in love_  with Dean as he was, would walk to the proverbial end of the earth for Dean; if that’s what his big brother wanted.

Dean sighed, “Yeah, okay, Sam. Pretend it’s not different; but it  **is**. Tellin’ someone to do somethin’ an’ havin’ ‘em do it is different than tellin’ someone to do somethin’ an’ havin’ ‘em be forced  **completely** , against their will, to do it.”

“ _ **Completely**  against your will_?” Sam snorted angrily, unable to believe what he was hearing, “Because doing something for  _me_  is just so horrible, Dean. I can’t imagine how awful it would be, to be forced to do something for someone that you care about.” Sam flipped his shoes off, “Sounds like a nightmare.” Okay, so maybe that all came out a little more sarcastic than he intended, but damn it he  
was tired of Dean’s tough guy bullshit.

The older Winchester frowned, “That’s not what I mean, Sam, an’ you know it.” Dean watched his brother wearily, letting out a heavy breath, “I mean, I  **literally**  couldn’t stop. ‘M not sayin’ that I don’t wanna do thin’s for you, just… I don’t wanna be pushed aroun’ like some goddamn toy.”

“Okay, tough guy,” Sam muttered as he unbuttoned the first few buttons to his shirt before he plopped down on his bed. Dean was getting a little **too**  upset over the situation, Sam told Dean to get him a beer once to see if it’d work and suddenly he’s  _pushing Dean around._

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance, reaching over the side of the bed and pulling out his duffel-bag. He rummaged for a moment, setting out their father’s journal and a large, thick text he normally kept around for such occasions.

Sam felt something digging into his lower back after he laid down. Remembering that he’d tucked something into his pants, just underneath his shirt, the younger Winchester leaned up a little and pulled it out; a medium size hunting knife with a tribal symbol on it’s jagged edged blade and a black handle. He’d gotten it for Dean when he went _back to get his book_. Sam sat the knife on the table  
separating their beds and laid back down.

Dean startled at the sound, looking up to the table and raising his brows, “What-what’s that?” He asked nervously as he felt his stomach sink and squirm. Obviously, he wasn’t stupid, he had eyes. It was a knife and it wasn’t any of  **Sam’s**  knives, he was well accustomed to all of those; at least enough to know that  **that**  one was new, and that he’d been  _looking at it_  earlier.

Sam kept his gaze on the ceiling and his voice flat, “I didn’t go back to get a book, Dean,” Sam laid one arm over his eyes and the other over his abdomen as he drew his right knee up, “Went back to get you the knife you wanted.”

The older Winchester frowned, pursing his lips as he turned his body to look at his brother fully, “Yeah, I get that, but why?”

“Because I love you and I want you to have things you want, even if you think you don’t  **need**  or deserve ‘em,” Sam answered honestly.

Dean licked his lips, feeling the burn of the words like sandpaper over his guts and he reached out, taking the knife up from the stand and looking at it. No one had ever really gotten him things,  **besides**  for Sam. His necklace, well, he even  _showered_  with that. His thumb and forefinger took up the amulet, working it between them as he flicked out the blade of the knife with his other hand. Now he just felt like an ass.

Sam dropped the arm from his face and feigned a smile at Dean before he rolled, putting his back towards his brother. Okay, so maybe none of this went as smoothly as Sam had planned. Dean was usually distant enough with Sam,  **physically** , the way it was and this curse was just driving a wedge deeper between them.

Dean was silent for a long time, looking at the handle of the blade before he finally moved, sitting on the edge of the bed by his brother, reaching out to touch Sam’s shoulder, the tentative, soft brush of the pads of his fingers over the larger man’s shirt, “Thanks, Sammy…”

Sam closed his eyes and shuddered at the touch, “Welcome.” It felt nice to have Dean this close to him without tensing up, _really nice_. Sam couldn’t even count on his hands the days since they last shared a  **real** kiss,  _this was getting ridiculous_. It wouldn’t make matters any better if he just ordered Dean to kiss him though, so he didn’t.

The older Winchester took a deep breath in through his nose. He wasn’t sure what to do at this point, things had been so stiff between the two of them, and he knew it was his fault; of course it was. Sam was always so willing to make things work and he, himself, just kept pushing away. He couldn’t rationalize why he did it, he knew it was stupid, even  **as**  he did those things, it still happened regardless. And he didn’t know how to fix it, “Look, uh…”

Sam rolled back over and looked up at Dean, propping his arm up underneath his head, “Is this not working?” The younger Winchester’s eyes were wide and…  **sad** , with almost child like innocence.

Dean frowned more, feeling his insides twist in discomfort, the shock of pain almost numbing his fingers, it hurt so bad, “Sam-What? Wh… Why would you think that?”

“Maybe it’s the cringing you do when I touch you,” Sam sat up a little and put his back against the headboard, “Why does this thing between us always have to be on  **your**  terms? If we kiss, it’s because  _you_  initiate it. If I kiss you, you practically pull away. I just don’t get it, Dean.”

“I…” Dean’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape, as if to ask ‘what’ again, he winced at the words Sam was saying and finally looked down at his hands, “Sam…” He didn’t have a good enough explanation, he didn’t have anything to back up his own actions, so he just sat there staring at his hands as his eyebrows tightened up.

“You can’t even talk to me, and we’re brothers for crying out loud, if anything you should be able to tell me  **everything** ,” Sam sat up and scooted a little closer to Dean, glancing at his lips. They’d gone over all of this, both of them agreeing that  _whatever_  it was they had, was something kind of wonderful to distract them from the usual bullshit slung their way.

“I just,” Dean looked up, shaking his head and shrugging weakly, trying to convey a sense of inability, “I dunno, Sammy. I just…” His brother was right, they  **were**  suppose to be that to each other, the escape. He didn’t know why, he was just always recoiling, fighting himself.

Sam didn’t know what to do, so his thoughts spoke for him, “Would you pull away if I kissed you right now?” He moved in closer, but cautiously. What they had, it was a funny little thing, constantly teetering from normal to weird. The younger Winchester almost never knew what Dean would accept.

Dean shook his head minutely, wetting his lips as his eyes widened slightly, “Uh, no… Sam. I uh, I wouldn’t…” He remembered the last time he’d kissed Sam, when he’d allowed that to himself, it wasn’t often that he felt like he deserved to be that close to his brother. Hell, he knew Sam liked him like that, that was a stupid thing to doubt, but some times he just… He didn’t understand why his brother  **would**  like him… _Like that._

Sam reached out and grabbed the middle of Dean’s shirt and slowly pulled him closer until their faces were a finger length apart, this wasn’t their first kiss, but damn all if it didn’t feel like it. The younger Winchester leaned in just a little more, still leaving space between their lips, breath heavy between them, “Kiss me.” Initially Sam had planned on kissing Dean instead, but he needed Dean  
to be the one to pull this together, whatever  _this_  was.

The older Winchester would’ve been annoyed, if it hadn’t been one of the most agreeable commands that his brother could’ve thought of. He leaned in, closing the distance completely, opening his mouth and taking Sam’s lips between his. He didn’t mean to hold his breath as he did so, but he caught it, practically gasping against his brother as he shifted to deepen the kiss.

Sam fisted Dean’s shirt so tightly his hand was starting to ache, but it didn’t matter because Dean’s lips were on his and it was…  **long**  overdue. The younger Winchester leaned up on his knees, enabling him to move and work his lips the way he wanted, the way he  **needed**  to.

Sam felt greedy, his big hands grabbing at Dean’s shoulders as he tried pulling him closer. He was getting what he could  _while_  he could, constantly afraid that Dean was going to pull back.

Dean groaned in surprise, his body rising to keep his height against his brother, mouth opening more, tongue drawing over Sam’s lips. He didn’t realize he was doing it until it was done though, hands reaching up, pressing against Sam’s chest to stop him, head turning away finally once the kiss was done enough.

Sam stopped when he felt the hands pushing at his chest, mouth still parted, “Did I do somethin’ wrong?” He knew this was going to happen, practically inevitable.

“No, obviously not,” the older Winchester responded at once, backing up and sitting on his heels, breathing heavily as he looked away.

“Then why’d you push me away?” Sam was confused.  _Dean was a walking, living, breathing enigma._

“It’s not you, okay?” Dean clarified, “I can’t… I don’t know what to say, Sam. Just…”  _Some times this is too much_ , he thought, looking at the younger Winchester,  _some times you’re too much for me. Just some times I can’t stand the fact that we decided on this thing in the first place, because it feels like a mistake; and I’m going to be the one that messes it all up._

Dean was never going to tell Sam anything unless Sam took advantage of the current situation with the curse, “Look at me,” Sam frowned, hating that it came down to this, “Tell me why you constantly pull away from me.”

Dean’s eyes widened as he looked at Sam, “I don’t wanna mess this up,” He said at once, trying to cover his mouth, “You’re… You’re  **you** , Sam, an’ I don’t deserve that an’-” He tried to shut his mouth, to clench his jaws together, “I’m afraid to do this because it’s so taboo an’ forbiddin’, an’ big.” The older Winchester turned, backing off of the bed, eyes wide as it all just came pouring out, “An’ I know if one of us messes this up, I know it’s gonna be  **me** , I dunno if I can handle it when I do. I keep you at arms length, I let myself have you, some times-some times I actually feel like I deserve it. But most of the time I just can’t… I can’t have you.”

“And what I want doesn’t matter? Why do you always do this? Over analyzing shit when things are fine. And even if they  **aren’t**  fine, if we run into problems, Dean, we’ll handle it  **together** , because that’s what we do,” Sam’s hands were shaking and he had to blink back tears.

The older Winchester figured he was already in it deep enough, he was so caught up with the curse that the words were still tumbling out, even though he’d given Sam what he’d initially asked for, “I don’t know how to act with you, Sam!” He said, eyes wide, voice louder than he’d intended, “I should know how to act, but I dunno what I am. I dunno what’s right. I dunno how you can just do it, an’ not even worry about it, cause fuckin’ god, I do. I’m always worried that if people see me, or if they know, or if I do somethin’… Sam, I… If I touch you… If I do what I wanna do…”

“I do it because I fuckin’ care about you. I’m head over heels, _figuratively_  speaking, for  **your**  dumb ass and that usually inhibits my thought process when it comes to what people think about us,” A few tears managed to spill over Sam’s cheekbones, “I don’t give a shit what they see, because all I see is you. You and your over analyzing, your smart ass mouth and those stupid fuckin’ freckles.”

Dean was at a loss for words. Sam was on a whole different level than him, all together. He was still stuck at ‘most of the time I’m your brother, but I also feel like your father, and, also, I kinda wanna hide this type of confusion from you, but at the same time I want you so bad that I can’t think straight’. It was almost hurting him physically to think about so much, so fast.

He always wanted to touch Sam, he  **always**  wanted to hold him, but he was also… Always terrified to show Sam too much affection, because that wasn’t right; he shouldn’t want those things. He shouldn’t feel that way.

“Dean, I can’t keep doing this,” Sam gestured between the two of them sadly, “One minute your fine and the next you won’t even come near me. You know how I feel, I’ve laid it out there for you and I’d do it again a million times over if I thought I could get through to you somehow. You’re  **everything**  to me, man.”

Sam pushed up off the bed and gave Dean a deflated look, “What the hell do you want me to do? I’ll do it, I just need you to tell me.”

Dean still didn’t know what to do. This was going down hill fast, he had to stop it, he had to do something to change things around, “Tell  **me** , Sam,” He said at once, eyes widening slightly.

“No, I’m not taking away your free will, Dean,” Sam shook his head fervently.  _How was he supposed to do that? Just tell Dean to be happy with him and forget everything else._  If it was going to happen and if it was going to work, that’s something Dean would have to convince **himself**  of. Sam couldn’t take that away from him.

“Please, Sam,” Dean looked down at his hands. “Maybe if-maybe if you do this, maybe if we just… If it’s just a few things, nothin’ big, just… Tell me what do to do-an’ I won’t fight, I won’t be upset, I-just do it, Sam, okay?”

“If I do this and it works, what happens when we figure out how to break the curse, Dean?” Sam felt broken and  _guilty_ , guilty because he  **wanted**  to just tell Dean to be happy with him and that wasn’t right, “It’ll be exactly like it is now and I can’t, Dean, I can’t fuckin’ do this again. If we’re gonna be together, I want it to be because you  _want_  to be with me, not because I forced you into it. I can’t handle that, wouldn’t be able to.”

“I’m not askin’ you to make me feel anythin’, Sam,” Dean licked his lips, “Just tell me to do things. What you want, whatever you want. Because… I… I want… To. I just…”

“Because you can’t bring yourself to touch me without being  **forced**  to,” Sam pulled at his hair and tried convincing himself this was just a shitty dream.  _Can I just rewind all of this back up to about a month ago._  Things were considerably better then, not like this.

The older Winchester nodded, not understanding his brother’s turmoil, “Come on, Sam. You had no problem tellin’ me to kiss you, but you have a problem with this all of a sudden?”

“It’s not the same… Dean, I **can’t**  do this,” Sam was sure he looked like a lunatic, standing in the middle of the room pulling on his hair like he’s lost his mind, “Do you not see the problem here?”

Was it too much to ask for Dean to want Sam, mind, body and soul, of his own accord?

Dean shook his head, “Well… Well, no… I mean, I see the problem with me, that’s obvious. I’m tryin’ to fix it, Sam. I think…” He walked closer, taking his brother’s hands down to his sides, “I  **want**  you,” His eyes settled on the larger man’s lips for a moment before he looked right up into Sam’s, unblinking, “to tell me what to do.”

Sam’s bottom lip trembled and it took everything he had to keep himself standing upright, “I just want you, to need me the way I need you, Dean.” Sam had never felt more defeated in his whole life. The younger Winchester wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and let his upper body press against his brother as a sob escaped his throat, “Hug me, just hug me.”

Dean reached up at once, wrapping his arms around Sam and drawing him close, settling his palms on his brother’s back, and in his hair, “I  **do**  need you, don’t you understand that, Sam?” He breathed as his eyes closed and he buried his face against the larger man’s neck, running his hand over Sam’s back soothingly.

“Evidently not enough, not if I have to tell you to touch me,” Sam felt numb and he almost didn’t care anymore.  _That was a lie,_  he just didn’t know what to do. None of this made sense and it  **hurt** , more than he was used to.

Dean pulled back, stepping away from Sam as his eyes dropped, “I try to make this easier for us. I try to fix it the best I can, an’ you’ve gotta say somethin’ like that?” His eyes grew dark as he looked up at his brother finally, “What I am, this…  _This isn’t enough_ , is it?”

“You’re human, Dean. Stop acting like you’re some damn alien that’s incapable of humanly affection,” Sam used the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes.

The older Winchester blinked in surprise, moving to Sam, reaching up and touching his brother’s cheeks, combing his fingers back through Sam’s hair as he pulled him down, but not for a kiss on the lips. He pressed his mouth to Sam’s hairline, kissing his forehead, his temples, his cheekbones and jawline. Soft breaths came from his parted lips as he began to mouth down his brother’s neck.

Sam grabbed the hem of Dean’s shirt, his whole body overwhelmed at the attention, he did something he thought he’d never do and pulled back, “Just stop, just for a second. What are you doing?” Sam almost couldn’t find the words, didn’t want to, just wanted to let Dean continue touching him.

Dean paused, for a second, before he was moving again, not kissing Sam, but taking his waist and pulling him close, pressing his forehead to Sam’s chest and breathing heatedly, “I been wantin’ to do that for so long, **goddamn**.” He was practically shaking now, hands moving to touch the warm skin under the hem of his brother’s shirt.

“ _ **Dean**_ ,” Sam was pretty much moaning from the contact, it was more than they were used to, but it still didn’t make sense, “Stop.” Sam grabbed Dean by his biceps and stilled him, looking down into his green eyes, “What are you doing?”

The older Winchester stopped, eyebrows rising, eyes dilated and he licked his lips, “I… I was doin’ what you told me,” He said, slightly breathless.

“I d-didn’t tell you to do that,” Sam muttered, trying to peel his eyes away from Dean’s lips.

“You told me to stop actin’ like I was incapable of humanly affection,” Dean repeated back, brows narrowing, “So I… So I did.”

“Oh my God,” Sam mumbled to himself, almost instantly feeling sick because he  **hadn’t**  realized he’d said it, “Dean, I am… I’m so sorry,” The younger Winchester covered his mouth.  _How could he let something like that slip without even thinking?_

Dean shook his head, “Don’t… Don’t apologize, please. Sam, that-” He let out another heavy breath, reaching out and taking Sam’s hand away from his face. “That’s what I want,” He smiled slightly, “That… That felt good. I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“Do it again,” It was hardly a whisper, but it definitely left Sam’s lips. It wasn’t like he could just say,  _‘Hey Dean, go back to being the emotionally and physically unavailable scrooge you were before_ ’.

The older Winchester smiled, blinking weakly as he moved in, the smile growing wider so that teeth actually broke through and he chuckled before he took up his brother’s face, pressing his lips to the same spots again, breath becoming heavier as he kissed Sam. One hand gripped gently in the larger man’s hair, the other moved low, grabbing his waist and pulling him close again.

Sam closed his eyes and tried memorizing what each kiss felt like so he could lock them all away in the back of his mind to replay later. The younger Winchester’s hands scrambled clumsily to Dean’s back, settling them nervously at the bottom as he looped his thumbs in Dean’s belt. This was surreal and Sam just couldn’t get enough, “Kiss me, again,” _Please, please, please_ , he kept the begging  
restrained to his thoughts, afraid that it wouldn’t work.

Dean cupped Sam’s face, pressing his lips to his brother’s gently, a soft, almost needy moan escaping his mouth as his body pressed to the larger man’s. He needed this, goddamn. It was so much easier to just give in now and let it happen, the urges rolling over him, stronger than he’d anticipated.

Sam leaned into his brother’s lips, his own mouth greedily covering Dean’s. The younger Winchester dropped his hands from Dean’s back, but only to place them gingerly on his hips, Sam’s finger tips grazing his brother’s hot flesh. Whimpers and pleas were rolling out of Sam’s mouth against the older Winchester’s, begging Dean not to stop.

“Sam,” Dean breathed out, lungs void of air as he tilted his face, “Goddamn, I want these,” He said, teeth and tongue wandering along Sam’s cheek, nipping the larger man’s dimples, kissing into them before he moved to his brother’s lips, thumbs tracing after his mouth as he moaned, “Sammy.”

Sam smiled, making his dimples more distinguishable as he wrapped his arms firmly around Dean’s shoulders. His chest felt tight and he knew it was silly, but he felt like he was going to cry; being so overwhelmed with all of the contact, “I’ve wanted you to touch me like this for a long time.”

“How I’ve-” Dean moved back to Sam’s cheeks, tasting them again, licking his lips before sucking on the skin, watching the blood rise up as he laced his fingers in his brother’s thick hair. Now that he’d started, he couldn’t get enough. “How I’ve wanted to touch you, Sammy,” He admitted. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up, but goddamn if he wasn’t going to try and get out everything now, before he tried to recoil; he wanted this so bad.

Sam knew that this wasn’t right, they were only touching like this because it’s what Sam told Dean to do, but it felt too good to just tell him to stop.

Sam nuzzled his face into the arch of his brother’s neck and sighed, his fingers still massaging the older Winchester’s skin idly, “Stop.” His conscious won out the argument, he knew that Dean would regret almost all of this whenever the curse  
finally did break.

Dean growled at the demand as he was completely forced to stop his actions, tongue retreating from the deepest crease of his brother’s right dimple. His hands tightened in Sam’s hair as he pulled back and looked at his brother, “Wh-What?” He asked weakly.

“I should-uh, I should call Bobby,” Sam took Dean’s hand from his hair and kissed his knuckles before pulling back, “See if he know’s how to break this curse.” Sam already felt cold from the slight distance between them.

The older Winchester moved in, “Wait, please, Sam,” He said, suddenly desperate, hands latching onto the larger man to stop him from pulling away, “Don’t.”

“I  **have**  to. It feels amazing to finally have you touch me like this, Dean, I can’t even put it into words, but this isn’t right and you know it,” Sam reached down to pull his cell phone out of his pocket.

Dean grabbed the sides of Sam’s face, pulling him down and kissing him again, mouth opening, eyes squeezing shut as he acted of his own accord for once. He didn’t care about the stupid curse at this point, but he needed his brother.

Sam dropped the phone and grabbed the front of Dean’s shirt, pulling him so close that it felt like they were melting into each other. It was like the ground was moving beneath their feet, his mind was whirling at the lack of oxygen.  _What a perfect way to pass out._  What was he even doing before hand? He couldn’t think straight. _Oh, right_. Sam stopped the kiss, but he kept his face next to  
Dean’s as he tilted their foreheads together, “Stop, I need to do this.”

“No,” The older Winchester responded, he was ready to stop moving, even though it annoyed him, but he almost  **really**  paused when the command suddenly had no effect. _It was gone? The curse or whatever it was… was broken?_  Dean smirked, forehead pressing to Sam’s before he kissed him again.

Sam only had a second to be confused before Dean had taken to his lips once more, making Sam breathe heavily through his nose. It was more or less just for measure, to make sure it was actually broken, “Stop kissing me,” Sam murmured against Dean’s mouth, waiting for the cool air to hit his lips.

“Mm mnh,” Dean hummed against Sam’s mouth in protest, hands moving up to touch his brother’s face, feet planted firmly on the ground. He didn’t want to let Sam go, he was tired of being so distant and stubborn; he wanted to be selfish.  _For once in my life, goddamn, just let me have this. This is all I want. Just this, nothin’ else, that’s it. I won’t ask for nothin’ else._

Sam grabbed Dean forcefully by the hips and brought them together completely. The younger Winchester returned the kiss with fervor as he towered over Dean, laughing lightly in between breaths because this was **actually**  happening, his brother broke the curse and was still touching him _. Some kind of miracle._

Dean’s thumbs traced the dimples forming and he smiled back in turn, moaning into Sam’s mouth as he moved them forward until his brother’s knees hit the side of the bed. His brows raised, eyes opening as he broke the kiss and stared up at his brother, pupils so black you almost couldn’t see their original color.

The look in Dean’s eyes was one that Sam had wanted to see for a long time, a look so consumed with lust that the sight of it made Sam hard. The younger Winchester pulled Dean onto him, both of their bodies crashing back onto the bed.

Sam tilted his head and traced Dean’s bottom lip with his tongue before taking it up into his mouth to suck on it, he released it with a slick  _pop_ sound that went  
straight to his dick.

Dean groaned, knees parting Sam’s legs as he settled between them, hips bucking in response to the younger Winchester’s actions. His hands moved down, tugging at the hem of Sam’s shirt before he pulled back and removed his own. He was too hard at this point and it was obvious the second he stretched to drop the article of clothing over the side of the bed.

Sam pulled his own shirt of in a rush, not wanting to miss the way Dean’s bare torso twisted when he lifted his off. The younger Winchester’s hands darted out before he could stop himself, splaying his fingers down his brother’s chest and abdomen. It was insane to think just a simple touch could go such a long way, but when you were as deprived as Sam Winchester, you’d be happy with whatever you  
got.

Sam’s lips parted and he wanted to tell Dean how good he felt against his finger tips and how bad he  **needed**  him, how his body was practically begging for it, but all the words got caught in his throat and he found himself leaning up to kiss.

Dean looked down at his brother’s hands in surprise, eyes widening for a moment before he smiled and met Sam’s lips with his, pushing the larger man back down, his own fingers wandering over Sam’s chest, thumbing his nipples until they were as hard as pebbles. He breathed against his brother’s lips, cock throbbing in his jeans as he bucked, rutting against Sam, voice breaking through in a grunting, demanding tone as he said, “I keep goin’ like this, an’ ‘M gonna cum in my fuckin’ jeans like some twelve year old virgin at spin-the-bottle.”

Sam reached down between them and unbuttoned his brother’s jeans as he jutted his own hips upwards, “Can’t have that, can we?” The younger Winchester grabbed Dean’s hips and Sam’s cock twitched at just how supple and soft his brother’s skin was under his grip.

“Goddammit, Sammy,” Dean gasped, lips swollen from kissing as he closed his eyes and nearly whimpered, trying to keep himself calm. He’d been wanting this for so long, he **wasn’t**  about to blow it on the spot; _literally_. He reached down, shifting out of his jeans completely and beginning on his brother’s.

Sam licked his lips and lifted his hips, helping to pull his pants down. He could tell Dean was tense, but in a good way; which is something Sam didn’t think was possible. The younger Winchester laid his hand on Dean’s cheek, his fingertips rubbing against the scruff, “Calm down,” Sam pressed a gentle kiss to the opposite cheek.

Dean chuckled at the words and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’ve wanted you like this for so long, thought of you beneath me so many times, it’s… It’s almost unreal.” He visibly relaxed, taking calming, easy breaths, “But, if I keep movin’ so fast, I’m gonna cum, an’ there ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ that. ‘M half tempted just to do it, so I don’t have to keep thinkin’ about it.”

“Then slow down,” Sam mused, his lips curved into a smirk as he grabbed his brother’s cock through the thin black fabric. Sam subconsciously licked his lips at how nice it felt as the heat radiated into his hand.

The older Winchester stilled, forearms resting on the mattress, on either sides of Sam’s face as he stared into his brother’s eyes, searching, admiring, enjoying him in silence. He was calming, breathing slowly when he finally said, “You’re my escape, Sam,” the puffs of air like whispers over his brother’s lips, “You’re right, s’what we are for each other. S’what you are for me, not just that, more, but you’re also my escape from everythin’. N’I don’t care what I look like, n’this room, with you, I just… I just wanna look like… Like I love you; s’all.”

Sam laid there as he let the words sink in, his mind lingering on the only ones that mattered out of all of what Dean had said. Sam felt his heart swell and he snickered as he wondered if his brother realized what he just said… **out loud.**  The younger Winchester placed a chaste kiss on Dean’s lips, “I love you, too,” Sam grinned against his brother’s mouth and he tugged on the older man’s dick,  
“But don’t you go gettin’ all soft on me, not right now.”

“Don’t think I could get soft f’I tried,” Dean said, smirking slightly and leaning down, running his tongue over the dip of Sam’s left dimple. “Goddamn,” He breathed, hips bucking into his brother’s hand, “Could fuckin’ eat these thin’s up.”

“If that’s the case, I should smile more often,” Sam squeezed Dean’s cock one more time before he wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist, his hands sank down into the skin like melted butter as he pulled Dean closer.

“‘V’ry time I see ‘em,” Dean mumbled, teeth biting as his drawl became stronger, “V’ry time, I just wanna grab you ‘n kiss ‘em.” His own hands moved, touching Sam’s chest, touching his own, unable to keep them still any longer.

Sam squirmed a little beneath Dean, “I should kick your ass for not doin’ just exactly that,” He pulled his brother’s hips down at the same time he grinded up. The thought of Dean grabbing him by the face in public just to kiss his dimples made him long for it.

Dean’s chuckle broke off into a surprised moan and he thrust down hard, hips pushing Sam into the bed as if he was already fucking him and Dean leaned down to whisper in his brother’s ear, “Yeah? Think you could take me?”

“I know I can,” Sam planted his feet firmly on the bed as he pushed up, rolling Dean over onto his back, Sam smiled down at him as he straddled his brother’s hips. Seeing Dean underneath him like this wasn’t doing much for his erection, that much was for sure. The younger Winchester leaned down and kissed the particularly large cluster of freckles on Dean’s nose.

Dean bit his bottom lip, eyes closing before he grabbed Sam’s waist and bucked, grinding their cocks against each other as he took his brother’s arms up, throwing him off balance and rolling them back over again, returning to the top and thrusting down into Sam again, staring at him through heavy breaths, “Your height don’t work too well in your favor, f’you don’t watch yourself there, Sammy.”

“I could still kick your ass if I wanted to,” Sam wrapped his legs tightly around his brothers waist and grinded into him, a whisper of a moan rolled from his lips. Sam could feel himself harden more due to his brother’s piercing green eyes staring down at him, one trait of Dean’s on a long list of things that got Sam worked up.

“Uh huh, you keep thinkin’ that, baby boy,” Dean whispered in the larger man’s ear, hand reaching down his brother’s backside and grabbing his ass firmly, squeezing with his next words, “ _You keep thinkin’ that_.”

Sam gasped and arched his back a little, “You’re such a fuckin’ tease,” The words came out more like a growl, showing his frustration. The younger Winchester’s hips snapped up, the friction of the fabric between them making Sam shudder.

“ **I’m**  a fuckin’ tease?” Dean rasped, groaning against Sam’s neck as he kissed it, “Get them goddamn boxers off, so’s I can fuck you raw. I’m not fuckin’ teasin’,” His lips pressed to Sam’s ear suddenly, “Get ‘em off, Sammy. I wanna bury myself n’you.”

Sam pushed Dean off of him enough so that he could slide the boxers down over the sharp curves of his hips, hesitating only momentarily before he revealed himself. The younger Winchester’s hazel eyes never left Dean’s gaze once and he felt  **naked** , which he  _was_ , but he felt transparent too, like Dean could see every single thing he was thinking.

Dean’s eyes darkened as he watched Sam and he climbed back from the bed, stepping onto the soft motel carpeting as he reached down, dropping his boxer briefs without a second thought and standing there, gaze locked on his brother as his back straightened.

Sam propped his upper body up on his elbows and licked his lips, his own erection throbbing and leaking pre-come next to his navel, “ **Damn** ,” Sam almost choked, “You gonna stand there and look good enough to eat or are you gonna fuck me?”

The older Winchester smirked, eyes drawing over his brother, taking in every twist and flex of muscle, every soft, sweet mole he could see as he moved in and climbed on top of the larger man, pressing their bodies flush together as he nipped along Sam’s jaw and said, “Tell me, Sammy, how bad you want it.”

“Bad, want you s-so bad,” Sam moaned a little in Dean’s ear, the skin on skin contact turned his mind into a puddle of goo, his thoughts weren’t even coherent. Sam’s hands clung idly to his brother’s soft skin, sinking in a little where ever he grabbed.

“Wantchu, baby boy,” Dean breathed, biting Sam’s bottom lip and worrying it between his teeth as he touched his brother’s chest. He sucked the lip hard before letting it go and saying, voice heavy in the larger man’s face, “You spread out for me, on your stomach, like a good boy now, Sammy.”

Sam nodded slowly as he maneuvered himself to his stomach, turning his head slowly so he could keep his eyes on Dean as he spread his legs open for him.

The older Winchester licked his lips, eyes widening slightly as he stared at his brother’s backside before flattening out against Sam, pressing his cock between the soft, supple ass cheeks. His lips ghosted the shell of Sam’s ear as he whispered, “I could eat every inch of you,” before mouthing his brother’s dimples again, “An’ not  **just**  these.”

Sam curled his body back into his brother’s skin and shifted his hips into the bed for friction, “ _ **Christ**_ , Dean,” The younger Winchester swallowed hard, “P-Please.”

Dean thrust hard against his brother, sliding him along the bed slightly before he moved down, lips and teeth and tongue working their way along the bronzed skin, nipping freckles, kissing moles, licking every dip in his brother’s flesh. He stopped, getting harder considerably as he palmed at the dimples of Sam’s lower back, two twins just above his brother’s ass and his mouth followed his fingers.

Sam buried his face into the sheets and moaned, there was no holding it back at this point, every thing Dean did to him felt entirely too good to not express it vocally, “ **Fuck**.”

The older Winchester smirked at the response, hands smoothing over his brother’s ass, gripping the muscles as he spread the larger man open. He moved down, biting at the base of Sam’s spine as he parted his lips. His mouth watered at the sight before him and he stared, the soft, desperate, bright pink flesh coaxing him forward and he hummed in appreciation, drawing the flat of his tongue along the puckered entrance.

Sam balled the sheets in his hand and pushed his hips backwards to meet Dean’s mouth. It felt weird to not be able to touch Dean in return, but it felt  **too**  damn good to complain about it, “ _Dean_.”

Dean reached up, smoothing his hand over the side of Sam’s back, pressing into the dips of flesh as he flicked his tongue over his brother’s heat before soaking his forefinger. He drew a simple, single circle around the ring of muscle before pushing the digit inside.

Sam forced his hips back on the finger greedily, moaning aloud with every bit he took. The younger Winchester tried burying his face in his arm to muffle the moan, almost embarrassing himself with how vocal he was being.

“You can uh… You can get my lube,” Dean breathed, mouth on the left dimple above his brother’s ass as his finger worked carefully in and out of Sam, “S’under the pillow there, yeah?”

Sam reached up, trying not to pull too far away as he grabbed the bottle of lube that was  **actually**  under Dean’s pillow. Sam popped the lid open and handed it back to Dean, smirking like a little kid who just found out a secret.

“Thanks,” The older Winchester responded mindlessly, squirting some into his palm and heating it up, spreading the warmed lube onto his fingers before he returned, pressing back into Sam, holding his brother’s hip firmly in place with his free hand as he began working two fingers into the larger man.

Sam wiggled impatiently around the fingers, moaning each time they bristled the sensitive bundle of nerves. It felt good,  **amazing**  actually, but what he wanted more than anything was for Dean to fuck into him mercilessly; made sense considering Dean hardly ever showed emotion or physical want the entire time they’d been together as a couple.

Dean kissed Sam’s back, biting as he fucked his fingers into his brother, working him into a relaxation, the muscles around him exhausting before he pulled away and kissed the back of his brother’s neck, “Turn ‘round so’s I can see you, Sammy.”

Sam moved slowly, twisting his body so that he was face to face with Dean. The younger Winchester grabbed the back of Dean’s neck and took a hungry kiss before he positioned himself beneath his brother. This is what he wanted, the contact, being able to touch back and to see that stupid face that made his heart swell anytime he looked at it too long.

Dean smirked, eyes amused as he grabbed Sam’s thighs and pulled him closer, taking back up the lube and pouring a generous amount in his hands. He looked away for a moment, warming the sticky liquid over his length and positioning against Sam’s entrance before he carefully began pressing in, wetting his lips as he did so.

The younger Winchester’s jaw went slack as he closed his eyes, his arms draped possessively over his brother’s shoulder’s. This had hurt a little more than he expected, he’d only ever been on the giving end of things when it came to sex with guys; but this was Dean and he’d give him just about anything, including this. Sam grimaced slightly and bit his bottom lip to keep from gasping, “Ah.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Dean said in a rush, one hand moving to settle over his brother’s heart as he pulled out, pressing in a second time, more smooth and slow. Sam was tight,  _really_   _ **tight**_. And Dean had never, ever been with a guy before; he had no idea it’d be… For lack of another word,  **better**.

“S’okay,” Sam murmured, staring at Dean’s lips.  _That’d be a nice distraction_. The younger Winchester craned his neck up slightly to capture his brother’s mouth, sliding his tongue along the edge of his bottom lip. As long as Sam could keep his mind off of the blunt pain in the beginning, he’d be fine.

Dean groaned in approval, leaning into the kiss, nearly pressing Sam’s knees to the mattress as he bent over his brother. It was like he was being consumed by Sam, surrounded by him in every way imaginable. His mouth opened, inviting Sam in as a sharp grunt came out.

“Fuck,” Sam let a shuddery breath out into Dean’s mouth as he tried coaxing his muscles into relaxing. The younger Winchester’s short nails dug into his brother’s shoulder’s, he was sure it’d end up leaving marks.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dean repeated weakly against his brother’s lips, “M’sorry, baby boy,” He said, cheeks flushing as the words came out and he chuckled nervously, the hand on Sam’s chest moving slightly in circles, rubbing the skin for reassurance.

Sam almost rolled his eyes at Dean, but seeing such tenderness coming from him was quite endearing, “Said I’m fine, just-just push in all the way already; I’m not gonna break.” Sam’s hand tightened around the tight muscles on Dean’s back and he tried forcing his hips down a little.

Dean laughed, leaning low and kissing his brother, “I’ve never really done this buh’fore,” He said, pulling out once more, “S’kinda new territory for me.” He grabbed Sam’s hips tight in his hands before thrusting in completely, one swift, smooth move that buried him to the hilt in his brother’s heat.

Sam’s back arched and he pressed his face into Dean’s neck and bit down, kissing and licking tenderly at the mark he left, “You’re doin’ fine,” Sam encouraged and finally wiggled his hips a little once the pain started to subside.

The older Winchester smirked and raised his brows in a quick, suggestive way, “‘Course I am,” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, gripping his brother tight as he began a slow, steady rhythm, the pace increasing as he went. He had to swallow and fight himself back, Sam was tight, terribly, horribly, painfully tight; but it was the most amazing thing he’s ever felt. Burying himself over and over into the warmth of his brother, feeling the muscles clench and settle snug around his cock was something he’d probably never get over.

Sam met Dean’s smirk with one of his own, it was hard  **not**  too, the fucker was infectious. Pain aside, this wasn’t so bad and Sam could _almost_  understand why some people preferred to be bottoms and then Dean hit the bundle of nerves, “Ah,  **fuck**!” Sam twisted and writhed beneath his brother, his eyes almost rolling back into his head, “ _ **Dean**_.”

Dean would’ve paused if instinct hadn’t told him, being with plenty of partners before, that was the ‘ _don’t you fuckin’ stop_ ’ face, the one that said ‘ _if you even shift in the slightest way, you’ll ruin this for the both of us_ ’. He wasn’t sure  _what_  he’d just hit, he didn’t know men had something like  _anything_  like what women did but, clearly, there was something to this. His hands tightened on Sam’s waist and he repeated the motion, watching his brother falling apart underneath him.

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam moaned as he tried rocking his hips harder down onto Dean’s lap. The sensations he was feeling were insane, borderline euphoric. Sam never really considered himself that much of a clingy person, but the way he had his arms around Dean and how tightly he was hanging on had proved him wrong. The younger Winchester’s lips grazed the small wrinkles worn into the skin next to his brother’s eyes, he peppered small kisses down to Dean’s ear and almost bit through his own lip when he shoved his hips down and everything came together a little  **too** perfectly, “Please, please,  _please_.” Sam wasn’t sure what he was begging for, he just didn’t want this to stop.

“I know, baby boy, I ain’t stoppin’,” Dean reassured between thrusts, fucking his brother down into the mattress. The sweat dripping along his neck tickled slightly and their soft grunts and gasps, vocal demands and the squeaking of the bed blow them became accompanied by the slapping of skin, Dean’s stomach, sides and thighs slick with perspiration as he wore his shape into the larger man’s frame.

The friction between the two of them, the pressure of Dean fucking down into Sam when his brother continually hit the bundle of nerves threatened Sam with his orgasm. He could feel it, his balls were tightening up and the dull sense of satisfaction burned low in his hips, “Dean, you keep fuckin’ me like this,” Sam worked his hips down and tightened his muscles around Dean as he flicked the lobe of Dean’s ear with his tongue, “And I’m gonna come.”

“I’m pretty sure that was the idea,” The older Winchester chuckled, keeping up the pace, slamming into Sam relentlessly, sharp pants escaping his lips as he gazed down at his brother, “Come on there, Sammy. Come for me, baby boy.” He reached out and brushed the bangs from Sam’s face, cupping the back of his neck and staring into his eyes, “Come for me, Sammy.”

“Yeah,” Sam moaned and rolled his head back, exposing the strong chords of his neck. The tender touches and encouragement Dean was murmuring pulled Sam over the edge, blinding white taking over his line of sight as he squeezed his eyes shut and shot the warm spurts of liquid between them. Sam could feel his legs shaking as his muscles spasmed around his brother’s length, “ **Dean**.”

 /Fuck/, if it wasn’t one of the hottest things Dean had ever seen before. No, there wasn’t a question about it, it /was/. Watching Sam, watching the brows worry the center of his forehead, the dimples, the thin pink lips shivering as Dean pounded down into him, he knew anything he could’ve imagined would’ve never sufficed; not compared to this. Dean came, not after, but with his brother, feeling the tight muscles milking his length as he continued his broken, uneven thrusts as his own lips parted, “S-Sammy…”

Sam tightened his right hand around Dean’s bicep and used his left to pull Dean down into a kiss, slow languid strokes of tongues colliding sweetly with another until Sam’s breath evened out.

The older Winchester went limp at once, body, muscles giving out, nearly dropping his full weight on Sam as he collapsed. He could feel an odd, but comfortably soft hum in his legs as he kissed his brother, reaching one hand up, weak and shaking, thumbing the corner of Sam’s lips.

Sam wrapped his arm’s around Dean snugly, outlining his brother’s muscles with his finger tips. The younger Winchester pressed his nose lightly to Dean’s, “Any chance I could tell you to cuddle with me and you actually listen?” Sam grinned, knowing full well the curse was broken but, _who could blame a guy for trying?_

Dean laughed, ‘hmm’ing in approval and making a ‘wince’ face, “I think I could live with that, but just this once,” He joked. His hand moved, grabbing Sam’s face and turning it just so, teeth and tongue returning to his brother’s dimples once again, “Goddamn these things,” He muttered.

Sam swatted at him playfully and tugged his brother down by his side as he wrapped his arms around him. The younger Winchester kissed the back of Dean’s neck and pulled his body in closer, the smaller man’s frame fitting perfectly into the curves of Sam’s. “You’re totally the little spoon,” Sam smiled into the warm skin on his brother’s shoulder.

“Some times change is okay,” Dean responded sleepily, wrapping his arms over Sam’s and squeezing the muscle of his brother’s forearms, “Bitch.”

Sam buried his nose into Dean’s short hair and kissed the soft skin beneath his ear, “Jerk.”


End file.
